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Of course it was child locked, and I didn't think it would be a great idea to use my wolf strength and break out the window. I remembered how fast Ares had moved in the garden, and I knew he wouldn't let me get far.
The garden. Alistair!
"What did you do with my mate?" I hissed.
His eyebrows rose, confused. "What did that shit do to you?" he mused. "You don't remember anything, do you?"
My insides squeezed at the reminder of how big of a chunk in time I’d lost.
"I'm not telling you anything," I hissed. "Now where's Alistair?"
Sadness. Anger. They warred in his gaze. But it was the stark sadness that called to me. Like he was pining for me, like the thought that I didn't remember him hurt him right down to his soul, something I'd never felt with Alistair.
"That piece of trash is currently in our trunk," he said quietly, his dark blue eyes still studying me intently. "I plan to hold him, until you're ready to kill him."
"Kill him?"
He nodded. "When you get your memories back, I suspect that will be the first thing you’ll do," he mused.
I thought back to his actions in the garden. It was becoming apparent that Alistair was an asshole, but certainly not enough of one to be killed for. “I can’t imagine killing anyone…well actually, the Fae Queen. I could definitely kill her if given the chance.”
"There's the fire I know and love."
I scrunched up my face in confusion. Some of my fear was fading. This man was obviously dangerous…and powerful, but at least for the moment he didn't seem to mean me any harm. And there was the fact he’d been so gentle with me in the garden, when it would've been much easier not to.
"What did you do to me to get me to fall asleep?" I asked, remembering the abrupt end to our interaction there.
He winced and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.
"Yeah, you’ll probably want to murder me when you remember things, but I felt it was necessary under the circumstances. Just a little vampire thrall, nothing that will hurt you."
"You're a vampire?" I gasped, the fear returning.
There it was again. Sorrow. "Yes. And you’re my perfect blood match,” he announced solemnly.
Blood match, I didn't like the sound of that. I rubbed my forehead, another migraine forming because I was pressing it so hard to try and remember…anything. He clearly seemed to know me, but I had absolutely no memory of him. I only had this feeling…that wasn't exactly hate.
"What's your name?" I asked, deciding that would be the easiest to start with since he seemed to be open to answering questions.
"Ares," he said softly as we studied each other.
He…was beautiful. There was no denying that. In fact, Alistair’s smooth looks were nothing in comparison.
After his midnight blue eyes, his hair was the next thing I noticed. It was dark, with a blue that almost matched his gaze running sporadically through it. His curls were haphazard, falling around his face like a frame for his perfect features. My gaze danced over him, thinking it was rather unfair for someone to be so beautiful compared to everyone else.
"Like what you see?" he asked wryly. My mouth opened and closed, heat flushing my face in embarrassment that I'd been checking out my kidnapper.
"What do you remember?" he pressed, leaning forward and touching my knee, sparks emanating from his touch.
“Why should I tell you anything?" I hissed. "You’ve got my mate in the trunk."
He shook his head. "I'm going to fucking tear apart whoever did this to you."
His anger seemed so…real.
It was so confusing. "I was told I've been in captivity for the past year. I remembered being imprisoned by the biggest bitch in the world…and then Alistair saving me.”
"Daria?" he growled, his voice filled with dark hatred that was…extremely comforting. Even Alistair's attitude towards the Queen hadn't been like that. I frowned thinking back to our conversations, and how little we’d actually talked about her. And every time we did, he’d never said her name, but the way he'd referred to her…it was almost deferential.
